Broken Angel
by Emo Bangs
Summary: James Diamond thought he found perfection when he looked into the mirror. Peyton Clark had spent years striving to be perfect. Can she show James that there's much more to perfection than appearance? Or is she too broken to know what perfection really is?


**Warnings: Language, self-harm, possible sexual content (most of which happen in later chapters)**

**A/N: Let me know if I should continue this. I'm interested in what you guys think. **

* * *

><p><em>Knock. Knock. Knock.<em>

The sound of a fist pounding against the door broke his concentration for the third time that morning. The first and foremost irritating fact with this was that it was taking place in the morning. James Diamond was _not _a morning person; he despised anything that woke him up before it was absolutely necessary.

That Tuesday morning it was Logan, his bookworm friend who insisted on leaving early so he could pick up some new book about Venus and its bromance with Earth or something. Honestly, James had stopped paying attention after Logan had started "talking science," as him and his friends referred to it.

"C'mon James," said boy called from the other side of the door. "You're going to make us late...again."

"Perfection takes time Logan and every time you interrupt me, I have to start over," he replied the way he usually did, justifying his morning routine. He turned back towards the mirror, straightening the collar of his navy button down and checking his hair one last time. Swinging the door open, he flashed an irritated smile at the smart boy, expressing an obvious discontent with being rushed. Like he always said, perfection took time. "Happy?"

"Thrilled. Now can we _go_?"

James rolled his eyes at his friend's typical urgency. It was school they were heading to; James just didn't share the same excitement. Six hours a day to learn things he would never use seemed rather pointless. He was going to be famous; he didn't need to know how to solve algebraic equations or how to classify different animal species. It was useless information to him, a mere waste of his time.

Logan, however, who was going to be a doctor, found school vital to his future plans. The smart boy was probably the reason James had been passing all these years, the long study sessions, the pestering "encouragement" Logan gave him.

After grabbing his jacket and school bag, he followed after Logan, meeting up with Kendall and Carlos on the corner.

"What took you guys so long?" Kendall, the leader of their group, questioned, after seeing the other two finally approaching.

"One guess," Logan answered shortly, head jerking to the side towards the pretty boy.

"Hey-"

"Yeah, yeah, we know," they cut off in perfect unison. "Perfection takes time."

"And to achieve _this _level of perfection," he gestured to his face in his usual manner. "It takes a long time."

The other three rolled their eyes, affectionately for the most part. James huffed, silently deciding that his friends just didn't appreciate true perfection like he did.

* * *

><p>Much to Logan's relief and James' distaste, they made it to school perfectly on time. Much to James' relief, his shortened beauty time that morning didn't have any effect on the female attention he typically received. He was extremely good-looking; he was well aware of this and so was about 95% of the female population at his school.<p>

His attractiveness came in handy, never leaving him alone on a Friday night. All the girls he went out with, they were all nice, typically very beautiful. But it was just hard, he felt, to find someone that measured up to him, someone who deserved his level of perfection.

As he walked through the halls alongside the guys, he could point to almost any girl and explain why each one didn't deserve him. The tall brunette passing his right had been extremely jealous, yelling at him whenever another girl looked at him. It wasn't his fault his looks earned a lot of attention, of the female kind specifically.

Then there was the artsy blond who was more concerned with her artwork than with spending time with him and she always acted like she was better than him. Ignoring James Diamond just wasn't an option; it was almost considered to be a sin amongst many girls.

The redhead behind her had been quite the opposite, possessing no amount of self-worth, constantly worrying he'd leave her any second. In the end, he'd done exactly that, detaching himself from her excessive clingyness.

He had yet to find that perfect girl to mirror him, a girl truly worth fighting for. He never had to fight for these girls and consequently, they weren't worth the little time he did spend. Maybe it was just his pickiness that he inherited from his mom, his inability to accept mediocrity. He wanted a girl he could take home to his mom, one that would pass her test. That was the type of girl he wanted. He just couldn't find that, and he wasn't going to settle for less in the mean time.

* * *

><p><em>Beep. Beep. Beep.<em>

Her single most hated noise in the world sounded loudly throughout her room, repeatedly and obnoxiously telling her it was time to get up. It was a brand new day with the exact same routine, only slightly altered this time. It was a new school she'd never been to and a house she'd yet to adjust to. Said house was newly inhabited by her and her dad along with her soon to be step-mom and her three children.

Everything else in her life remained the same; her busy schedule from back home had already been transferred here. Her dad had already set her up with the school's tennis team, a local dance studio and the town's best piano teacher, not wanting his daughter to miss a single thing.

She had felt the urge to inform him that she hadn't missed a single day in _years _ but bit her tongue, deciding it wasn't worth the lecture that would follow. That's what she did, what she _always _did, keep quiet and went along with what her father wanted. Being the VP of a huge company, he knew exactly how to get his way. She figured it was pointless to fight it.

Blindly reaching over, she fumbled around until the noise stopped. _6:30_. The digital red numbers seemed to display a time _far _too early but it was unfortunately the right time. It'd give her an hour to get ready and still leave just enough time to get there, early of course, her dad would insist.

After years and years, she'd grown accustom to all the rules and regulations her dad enforced; he often forgot to leave the management skills at the office. The line between his home and work personalities often blurred. She stopped trying to distinguish them a long time ago. Finally rolling out of bed, she headed to the bathroom to begin her lengthy morning routine.

* * *

><p>Roughly an hour later, she walked downstairs, hair washed and blow-dried , face made-up but not excessively so and wearing a sparsely patterned floral dress with ankle cut cowboy boots. They used to be her sister's; she wore them any chance she got. Her step-mom was the first to speak up when she entered the kitchen.<p>

"Oh Peyton, is that what you're wearing to your first day?" she asked. They both accepted that she'd never achieve the title of "mom" with her. She was a nice enough woman; she certainly had the whole trophy wife thing down but she would _never _be her mom, or anywhere close for that matter. She had at least reached the point where she could be civil with the woman, her sister's doing really.

When this new woman entered her life, she had still be grieving her mom's death and because of this, there were words exchanged that she wasn't exactly proud of. So much of her life had changed that following year; ever since her "transformation" as her step-mom and dad often referred to it, everything had stayed the same. It was hard for her to tell if she was comforted or tortured by this fact.

The brown haired girl glanced back down at her choice outfit, trying to gauge whether this was a good or bad reaction. "Yeah, it is," she answered, soft green eyes peeking back up hesitantly.

"Well you look very cute," her step-mom told her with a genuine smile.

"Yeah, you look nice today," her dad added from the dining room table, dashingly clad in his usual business suit and tie, loafers included.

"Thanks," she murmured politely but lacking honest sincerity. She took the compliment for what it was, skin deep. It was a mere statement about her appearance and it seemed pointless after the pressure unknowingly put on her to "look nice" all the time. It didn't feel like a compliment to do exactly what was expected of her.

"You ready to go?" the woman asked, reaching behind her back to untie her apron, hanging it on the wall. "We have to drop Collin off at the middle school and Kelsey off at daycare on our way."

Peyton suppressed the reluctant sigh bubbling in her throat, gearing herself to dive into her same old routine in a brand new place.

* * *

><p>By the beginning of her third class, disappointment was swiftly settling in her gut. She'd been hoping that attending a new school would provide a sense of excitement, something to break up her boring routine. After finding her locker and her first class, she realized that wasn't going to happen. She was living the exact same life, just in a different location.<p>

Now, she was heading towards what would most likely be the highlight of her day. Finding the locker room, just down the hall from the auditorium, she changed into a t-shirt and shorts, storing her school bag and dance bag in a random locker before heading back to the auditorium, where her schedule directed her.

She was right on time, entering just as the bell rang. It was slightly off-putting that _no one _was in there but she just shrugged it off and took the stage anyways. She crossed the wide stage slowly, letting her finger graze along the metal bar anchored in front of the full length mirror. She turned away to avoid her reflection; that's why she loved to dance. It was disconnecting; when she danced, she could focus on just that, every step, spin, turn. It gave her a chance to escape from herself, her life, even if only for a while, an hour, or even just a minute.

* * *

><p>James figured it was a winlose situation that he was currently caught up in. His teacher had asked him to do her a favor, grab an extra chair from the auditorium. He was reluctant at first because he hated doing favors for anyone but at the same time, he didn't mind so much seeing as it got him out of class for 10 minutes. That had to be worth it, right?

Maybe he'd chill in there for a while since it was usually empty during this time, waste half the period then bullshit some excuse and flash her his signature charming smile, which she would instantly buy because _everyone _did. It was just one of the perks of being extremely good-looking.

Not expecting anyone to be in there, he started quietly humming to himself, a soft, unnamed melody. His song was out short when he approached the stage, his world seeming to slow down as his eyes fell upon _her. _It wasn't unusual for James to "appreciate" a beautiful girl; in fact, it would be weird if he didn't. This felt different; it wasn't her perfect body, her long, lean legs, her slim waist, her decent sized rack. It wasn't any of these things that immediately drew him to her.

As he watched her fingers grazing the pole as her body spun flawlessly, he found himself captivated by how enraptured she appeared to be. Her body language allowed her to speak without words. But _god, _did he want to hear her that beautiful had to have the voice of an angel. Her eyes were shut as she gracefully spun around, her lips pressed together in concentration.

James didn't believe in love at first sight, it was just absurd to him, which made this tightening that much more confusing. It was merely excitement in observation of someone so _perfect. _Just from the way she danced up on the stage, completely lost in it, James knew she was absolutely flawless. Because of this, he _had _to meet her.

Luckily for him, she seemed to be unknowingly confused about her location.

"Dance class doesn't usually meet here on Tuesdays," he called, from in front of the stage. The girl stopped mid-spin, caught off guard by his presence.

"What?"

Just that one word and he wanted to hear more. "Johnson's dance class meets in the upper gym except on Fridays."

"Shit," he heard her mutter as she hurried over to the edge of the stage, crouching down and hoping off with ease. She stood before him, a good few inches shorter. His signature charming smile tugged at his lips.

"I'm James, and you are...?"

"Really, really late," she finished, unexpectedly ignoring his advance and instantly taking off towards the exit.

James watched, momentarily frozen in awe, captivated by the girl's simple yet radiant beauty. Shaking his head to refocus his mind, he decided one thing right then and there: he _had _to meet that girl.

* * *

><p>One glance, one brief encounter and this girl was <em>all <em>James found himself thinking about. His friends seemed to notice his more than usual spaceyness.

"Dude, you like half an hour late getting back to class," Carlos pointed out as they headed towards the cafeteria.

"Thanks _Logan,_" James retorted sarcastically, shoving the Latino boy playfully.

"Hey!" Logan barked indignantly. "I take offense to that!"

"There was a girl..." he began, completely ignoring their other friend's outburst.

"Of course there was," Kendall interrupted sarcastically. "And what was this one's name?"

"I don't know," the pretty boy admitted, shaking his head. He was desperate to know though, desperate to know _any_thing about her really. What if he never saw her again? That was a stupid thought in reality considering the low population of their school.

"You mean she didn't tell you her name before she threw her panties at you?" Carlos questioned, wearing a smile composed of slightly annoyance but mostly fond surprise.

"She didn't," he raised his hands, drawing out quotes in the air. "_Throw her panties _at me."

"What?" Carlos and Kendall exclaimed in unison, over-exaggerating their shock, while Logan still looked vaguely insulted from their previous joke.

"You mean she kept her pants on the whole time?" Carlos went on to persist.

"I only talked to her for a few seconds," James clarified, face scrunching up in annoyance as he went on. "Why is that so surprising?"

"Carlos, if you would, play the girl," Kendall said glancing towards the Latino boy. "I'll be James."

"Okay," Carlos agreed easily, "Let me just get into character." He let out a surprising girly giggle, rapidly batting his eyelashes and flipping back invisible hair.

"Ready?"

"Mhmm..." Carlos answered in his high-pitched girl voice.

Kendall nodded, lip jutting out slightly as he strutted over to Carlos, flipping his hair to the side. His voice was deep and smooth as he spoke, a flirtatious gleam in his eyes.

"Hey baby."

Carlos giggled again, staring up at Kendall/fake James with wide, love-struck eyes. "Oh _James._"

"And that's usually when the pants come off," Kendall concluded with a smug smirk.

James huffed in irritation, rolling his eyes at the other two's performance. He knew they were simply joking about his usual suave, smooth operator style but it wasn't his fault he was so attractive and girls tended to just throw themselves at him? What was he supposed to do, turn them all down? Surely, James wasn't going to do that. But this time _would _be different. Apparently, this girl wasn't going to be the one turned down. James was going to have to fight for her and the thought excited him more than anything.


End file.
